


Dear Dani

by wifebeast__s



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, Dani sent naughty pictures, F/M, Fluff, Image Prompt, Letters, Nate is hoping to get home to Dani soon, Tumblr Prompt, being on the front lines is unpleasant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 05:23:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8698729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wifebeast__s/pseuds/wifebeast__s
Summary: A series of letters from Nate to Dani before the war (and subsequently the world) ends.





	1. September 23, 2075

**Author's Note:**

  * For [likegoodangels](https://archiveofourown.org/users/likegoodangels/gifts).



> This is the December (and final) image prompt for @likegoodangels on tumblr!

Dear Dani,

Thank you for the care package, baby. I hope ma made you a matching scarf because this is so warm it even helps out here. It's already freezing ass cold here, but it'll be a snowing mess back home soon, too. I know ma worries about you, and I'm glad for that because I'm not there to take care of you. Maybe I couldn't knit you a scarf, but I could keep you warm. You never seem to complain when I'm the only thing between you and the cold.

Speaking of that, thanks for the pictures, too. Holy shit. How did you...I don't wanna know, actually. But if you want to send more...and don't worry, Johnny hasn't seen them. Even if Margaret sent him some, they weren't as good. You're gorgeous. You're the fucking sun in my skies, blindingly beautiful. The pictures are amazing, but they make me miss you even more. I want to touch you and taste you and be with you. God, when I get home, you're not leaving the bedroom. I have so many plans for you.

Sounds like you and Mandy had a wild time that weekend away. You do anything you don't want me to know about? Knowing you, you probably wouldn't remember if you did. Party girl. I never should have snuck that scotch in to you in high school, you drunk. Ha! Except you are really fun when you drink. Ok, unless you get that special drunk when I have to pull you off of whoever pissed you off. You're just the best.

For the record, I am not surprised your team won that case. Guy sounded like an ass hat, and you are insanely smart. You get the verdict since you wrote? They gonna court marshal him? I hope so. Look at you, third case ever and on a win streak already. You're too damn smart for me, baby. How'd I get so lucky? Brains and legs that don't quit and fuck me I need to come home soon.

This is pathetic. You'd think we haven't done this a few times already. You'd think I didn't go to basic almost 10 years ago now, that we haven't been separated like this 4 times before. Shit, you'd think that you didn't go to basic, weren't serving the military and kicking ass in the courtroom. I wish it got easier. Maybe it does. But I still miss you. 

Those pictures have done a number on me, baby.

I think I'll cut this short. You know what I'm saying. Send more pictures. Tell me what you were thinking about when you took them. 

Dreaming of you,

Nate


	2. October 14, 2075

Dear Dani,

Can you check in on ma? I got a letter from her this past week, and she sounds really down. I know you're busy with a few cases, but it would put me at ease. 

I guess I owe you an explanation, too. I know ~~I a few weeks~~ it's been a couple of weeks since I wrote to you, and I'm sorry. We got pinned out in some hills a few miles away from base. It was a standard patrol. I'm fine. A few guys aren't. We got out a couple of days ago. Best shower I've had in a long time.

It's so cold here, even the shower water is freezing, but it didn't matter. 

My armor got a little fucked out there, so it's in the shop. Bonus is that I don't have to go out until it's fixed. The left leg got dented so bad, they had to cut me out. I couldn't move it out in the field very easily, so they had to leave me by this lake. It was beautiful. It's early, but there's already snow here. I had a good view of the land – there was a clearing, the lake stretched out just beyond it, snow-covered trees just past that. A few trees had fallen during the skirmish, so I had something dry to sit on at least.

It was quiet, almost too quiet, but quiet in that way that it gets in the winter, you know?

You remember how we used to sit on the roof of your building, huddled in that blanket? There was the one night that it snowed, and we sat there watching it for hours. It was silent. Until you commented on it, anyway. Haha. But it was that kind of quiet. Just me and the snow, staring out over that lake. I didn't even hear the fighting happening on the far side of that lake. I don't know if it's the snow or what, but it was still silent – just flashes of light from the laser rifles. And me, sitting there like a dumbass, doing nothing.

When they came back, well, some of them did. And there I was, fucking useless on the far side of a lake. All I had was the quiet, and you remember what it was like. You told me one of those nights that the silence was too heavy. It made all of the weight of your dad, school, everything, it became a roar in your ears. That's what it was like. I couldn't hear the fight, sure, but I felt the weight of it, the weight of not being there.

Fuck, Dani, how many of them could I have saved? If I had been there. If my armor hadn't busted. Some of them might be writing home right now instead of lying in wait to be sent home. 

I hate it. I hate that weight. And I hate how grateful I am that I wasn't there, that I lived to fight another day, to write this letter, to ask you to check on ma...to come home. I need to see you. I miss you. I need you. Maybe I don't say this enough, either, but I love you. You and me, Dani.

That got kind of heavy. I'm sorry. ~~I just...~~ You're my rock. 

Maybe don't tell ma about that. Just tell her that I'm a terrible son and didn't write, ok? Thanks, babe.

Love always and forever,

Nate


	3. October 21, 2075

Dear Dani,

We're at the 4 month mark. I put in a request for leave in December. Maybe I can be home at Christmas? You and me and ma, just like old times. 

Remember our first Christmas together? I don't even mean together, together, either. I mean that first year, when you stole that pocket knife from Mr. Brown's pawn shop. You wrapped it in newspaper and, you being you, it was the story about the break-in. I fell a little bit in love with you then and there. You were tiny. Standing out on the stoop. It was so late. I think you snuck out, but you didn't say anything about it. We stood out there, and I opened the present, and I wanted to hug you, but back then the five years felt like a canyon. 

You were so small back then, too. I mean, you're no titan now, babe, but you were so scrawny. But so damn cute, even then. That was the nicest thing anyone had done for me then. I still have that little pocket knife. I used it to open your last letter. 

A few years after that, you kissed me for Christmas. Not the first time, but every time feels like the first time with you. You showed up on my doorstep again except with mistletoe, and you stood up on your toes...you were still too short, so you made me get down on the sidewalk, and you stood on the step, waved it over our heads, and basically swallowed my face. I pierced your ear for you. I don't think that was even.

Remember the year you turned 18? I still think that was one of the best Christmases ever. That thing you wore? That Christmas is still in my spank bank – unwrapping you from that little red slip of a thing. Fucking hell, Dani, you've always been hot, but that was insane. That ribbon. How did you even tie it? I never asked. I was a little busy.

If I get home for Christmas, I think we should go for a repeat performance. I'd better get home for Christmas.

I think I'll cut this letter short for now. Something, uh, came up. 

God, I love you.

Nate


	4. October 28, 2075

Dear Dani,

I know you know this because I tell you all the time, but I miss you. The days here are starting to get brighter. The kind of days that are just constantly in daylight. I don't know how I feel about that yet. Last time I wasn't here long enough to experience it. Maybe ask again in a couple of weeks. 

And anyway it doesn't matter how bright it is. It's still fucking cold here – colder than it ever got back home, and you know there were some nights I froze my balls off down at the docks. They got us these tiny space heaters. You would laugh you ass off, seeing all us grown ass men standing around it, trying to stick our hands close enough to feel anything. We get awful close around those things. And it gets awkward because so many of us are thinking about our gals back home.

I already know what you're gonna say, too, with your dirty mind. I don't care how fucking cold it gets here, your body is the only one I'm willing to wrap around. 

Tell ma that I am still looking for a good river rock for her. I meant to write about it to her before, but I forgot.

Shit. I gotta cut this short. I'll write again as soon as I can.

You and me,

Nate


	5. November 11, 2075

Dear Dani,

I'll spare you the details, but I'm really glad I'm getting to write to you today. I don't care how cold it is. I don't care if I have to share this shitty gray tent with a bunch of dudes – fewer today than there were last week.

It's the thought of you waiting back home, working so damn hard to make something of yourself, to build something for me to come home to...I just love you so much, baby, and being away from you is always the hardest part of these tours. I don't care how many times we've done it, the separation still sucks.

But, listen, on a positive note, I bet you made that hearing your bitch. You were researching for weeks, I know, and it's all stuff you've done before, or at least helped on, in the courtroom. Back in school you were always on top of things like that, knew where to find anything anyone needed, and not just in the library. 

Also I got word that I am go for leave in a couple of weeks. I'm going to hop on a bird on the 9th or 10th, then make it home a couple days after that. If you can swing it, try getting some extra time while I'm there? I can probably get someone to put in a good word, if you need it. But at least one extra day.

At least one day with you. I want to take you somewhere nice, like a bed and breakfast or something like that. Or not. Maybe we won't make it out the front door. Maybe I'll walk in, pick you up and take you right against the wall because I won't be able to wait to get to our bedroom, even in our tiny house. Or we won't even make it home. We'll get stuck at the station. Or the car.

I know you hate when I write this stuff, but I just can't help thinking about it – it's been so long. I keep thinking about peeling your clothes off, running my fingers on your skin, my tongue, god, tasting you. I want to taste you; I can almost imagine it, if I close my eyes and lay really still. Nectar from heaven, baby. I miss being inside you, miss you riding me. 

Definitely try to get that time off. I'll make it worth your while.

Love,

Nate


	6. November 25, 2075

Dear Dani,

I hope you and ma had a good Thanksgiving. We had the same shit they always give us, but at least for a day there was no fighting, no orders, no standing out in the snow, creeping around mountains. They even brought in more of those heaters, but honestly, I'm pretty sure everyone's dicks have fallen off by now anyway. Not mine, though, baby, don't worry.

If you want to talk more about getting out while I'm home, we can. I know you've thought about it, and I know it took a lot of courage for you to write that to me, while I'm out here. But you have to know that I'll support you no matter what. If it's time for you to be a civilian again, then only you can answer that. Did you talk to ma about it? What'd she say?

Here I said I'd let you wait, and it's all I'm writing about.

The guys and I all sat around together, and we talked about what we're thankful for. And I know a lot of the guys said they were grateful for the women in their lives – their mothers, sisters, daughters, wives. I mean, I know that they are, too. But I felt kind of sad for them, too. None of them have ma. And none of them have you.

I do. And when I think about this road we've been on together, the long road ahead, I just thank god...whatever is out there...that I get to do all of it with you. I've known you for almost 20 years now, and fuck me but every year gets better. When this war is over, when I get home from Alaska, I'm going to spend the next 20 years of our lives showing you each and every day just how grateful I am to have you in it. 

But I'm also selfish, and I don't think another 20 years will be enough. Not even 40. Not even 60. There will never be enough time for me to spend with you, but I'll take what I can get.

So thank you for the last 17 years, and here's to at least 17 more. With you, I know they're going to be amazing.

The luckiest guy in the world,

Nate


End file.
